October 22, 1973
Tales of horror, tales of fear
Read and heard about them, never believed what they'd say
Shrug my shoulders and turn my back
Saying: "These things don't happen today".
When you believe in a people, you believe in a faith.
Believe in the country, and you believe in the race.
John Hamilton was a vagrant,
Constantly wandering from town to town.
Always getting moved on
Everyone putting John Hamilton down.
As soon as he'd lay his head on a bit of cold ground
Someone would say "Move on; we don't
t want tramps in this town".
A little while back John Hamilton
Wandered into Edinburgh on an autumn night
Looked around for a likely spot
To grab some sleep before morning light.
He wasn't doing anyone any wrong,
Just waiting for the break of dawn.
Now a gang of youths surrounded John
As he sipped his cheap liquor
And from the light of his little camp fire
He saw their wicked eyes flicker.
John just couldn't understand
What they could want with an old man..
Now in that chilly Edinburgh night
John started to scream with fright
As they poured his liquor over him
And set John Hamilton alight.
Why they did such as thing, there is no saying,
Probably just to enjoy his screams of pain.
Now there's a black cloud over the city
And everyone knows the reason why.
John Hamilton is in hospital
Scarred but still alive.
Parents need to look at their children
And don't let them get out hand.
Did one of them torture an old man?
Picture: Leroy Skalstad
may isle
CONTENTS
- Columns (60)
- Prose poems (24)
- Songs (14)
Welcome
Welcome to 'A Frample', a confused tangle of columns, prose poems and lyrics. It's not so much a blog as an online folder, lying somewhere between a drawer and the bin.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
Mental health – now that’s gone a bit trendy hasn’t it? It’s a subject that produces a lot of words, and while one of the main messages is t...
-
My mother and father with one of my sisters and one of my brothers. July 31, 2019 You should never wash your dirty linen in public...
-
January 31, 2020 I have reached the point where certain aspects of life, which once were seen as distant or unimportant, are now...
-
A little while back, while volunteering at our small local museum, a young family from abroad were intrigued by an exhibit, the likes of w...
-
My recent revelations concerning encounters with bullies through the years were said by quite a few to be a disturbing read; even family mem...
-
There is a Scottish saying, “We’re a’ Jock Thamson’s bairns”. Depending on your outlook on life that’s a very socialist, Christian, Buddhist...
-
Someone moving down on the rocks, Torchlight flashing at the end of the Blocks. Girl on the Plerick down on her knees Hammering copper nails...
-
Continuing my solo therapy with there not being enough resources for a one-to-one with a professional, deemed not suitable for a group onl...
-
July 7, 2019 I like the winter time best, when nothing moves at all And I can’t hear any voices coming through the wall. Sometimes...
-
August 2017 At every chevron on every bend, there's a reminder of a new beginning coming after every end. Mist on the mountains, r...

No comments:
Post a Comment